Isabella
By the time I arrived at the coffee shop, the sky had already begun turning gold.
Warm sunlight spilled across the glass windows, soft and beautiful, but I felt completely detached from it.
I stood outside for a moment, gripping my cane tightly before finally pushing the door open. The quiet chime above the entrance rang softly, and immediately, I saw him.
Carlos sat near the far corner by the window, dressed simply in a dark coat with a cup of untouched coffee in front of him. The moment his eyes landed on me, he stood up so quickly his chair scraped harshly against the floor.
“Isabella…” The way he said my name made something tighten painfully in my chest.
He didn't feel pity for me, and he wasn't looking out for me out of obligation. Instead, he was genuinely concerned.
